


Dalliances

by irisbleufic



Series: Come As You Are [5]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Characters Annoying Other Characters Just Because, Do not translate without permission or copy to another site/app, Established Relationship, Festivals, Humor, Intersex Character, Jerome Valeska Lives, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Meddling, Other, Parades, Parallels, Pride, Pride Parades, Public Display of Affection, Queer Themes, Tired Oswald Cobblepot, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: Bruce and Jeremiah were paying each other more attention than they were paying the crowd, heads bent together as some shared sentiment made them laugh. They were behaving in the same fashion that Oswald and Edward had during the procession to celebrate Oswald’s mayoral victory.“They couldn’t be less subtle,” Oswald said, nursing his drink. “Surely the whole city knows.”“That’s what everyone said about us,” Edward reminded him mildly, casting an appraising eye on the couple that shared the flag-adorned float’s daïs. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”“I regret it sometimes,” Oswald said quietly, lost in the memory, “that I couldn’t keep us there.”
Relationships: 514A & Jerome Valeska, 514A/Jerome Valeska, Ecco/Ivy Pepper (Gotham), Harvey Bullock & Jim Gordon, Jeremiah Valeska & Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Alfred Pennyworth, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Selina Kyle/Bridgit Pike
Series: Come As You Are [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1313342
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	1. That Thing With the Stickers

Over the rim of his mimosa, Oswald surveyed the clamoring crowd. Since their first attendance at Gotham Pride two years ago, Edward had insisted on booking the same balcony table at the Clermont. Edward’s sentimentality could outstrip even Oswald’s.

“Too quiet,” Edward commented, sounding curiously subdued. “We can leave if you like.”

“No, I don’t like,” Oswald replied, setting down his drink. “Let’s enjoy our brunch instead.”

Edward nodded, using his fork to cut off a sliver of Eggs Benedict. “We missed last year.”

“The year before that was more than enough,” Oswald said, recalling Jerome’s colorfully infamous intrusion. “No chance of that now, I hope.”

Shrugging, Edward put the forkful in his mouth and contemplated the procession far below them.

“Could go either way. The perpetrator’s preoccupied these days, but he could easily bring…”

Something had distracted Edward enough to keep him from finishing his thought, so Oswald turned his attention back on the parade. The _Gotham Gazette_ ’s float, occupied by Valerie Vale and a handful of her meddling colleagues, had finally crawled past. Wayne Enterprises’ float followed close behind, distracting for entirely different reasons than two years before.

Bruce and Jeremiah were paying each other more attention than they were paying the crowd, heads bent together as some shared sentiment made them laugh. They were behaving in the same fashion that Oswald and Edward had during the procession to celebrate Oswald’s mayoral victory.

“They couldn’t be less subtle,” Oswald said, nursing his drink. “Surely the whole city knows.”

“That’s what everyone said about us,” Edward reminded him mildly, casting an appraising eye on the couple that shared the flag-adorned float’s daïs. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“I regret it sometimes,” Oswald said quietly, lost in the memory, “that I couldn’t keep us there.”

“Where?” Edward asked, enthusiastically waving at a weary-looking Lucius Fox, who stood next to Alfred Pennyworth in the lower tier of the float. “At city hall? Oh, _please_. We both would’ve gotten bored with it.”

Oswald sighed, knowing Edward was right. He watched Bruce cast a fleeting, but shrewd glance up at them before sliding one arm around Jeremiah and waving to the crowd. Jeremiah’s aloof gaze followed.

“Foxy’s not paying attention,” Edward said, almost pouting. “Been a while since we caught up.”

“That’s assuming any contact you’ve ever had with him warranted it,” Oswald said snidely.

Edward glared at him. “My guess is that the new subdivision boss is running him ragged.”

“Fox is head of Wayne Technologies,” Oswald said, “whereas Bruce let the fiancé take control of Wayne Industries.”

“Right,” Edward muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Running him ragged when they collaborate, then.”

“I wasn’t objecting to the ragged part,” Oswald replied, taking Edward’s hand. “Just the boss part. Mr. Valeska doesn’t play well with others.”

“You’re _so_ right,” said an uncomfortably familiar voice from behind them. “He never did.”

Oswald glanced over his shoulder, irritated at who the maître d’ had just led to an adjacent table.

“No love lost between you and your brother, I take it?” Edward asked, handsome in his pettiness.

Jerome was dressed more tastefully than he had been for his previous Pride appearance, but garishly enough to offend. The grey tailcoat and plaid trousers might not have been terrible, except he’d paired them with a yellow shirt and obnoxious tie. 

On Jerome’s arm, Five was haughtily elegant in a knee-length black cocktail dress with sheer sleeves and décolletage. He had fresh lavender blossoms and a string of black rainbow-iridescent Tahitian pearls wound into his upswept hair.

“Au contraire,” Jerome said, pulling Five’s chair out for him. “We’re workin’ on it, ya know?”

Five sat down. He tilted his head at Oswald as Jerome skirted the table to take his own seat.

“I didn’t get to thank you,” he said. “What you did for us at Arkham, you…didn’t have to.”

Oswald raised his glass in acknowledgment. “Anything to keep your paramour occupied.”

Shrugging, Five raised the glass of champagne in front of him. “I don’t control Jerome.”

“Nah, but you keep me in line, princess,” Jerome said, taking Five’s hand across the table.

Rising with his glass in hand, Five went around to Jerome’s side and sat down in his lap.

“We’re missing the parade,” Five said, and then kissed Jerome. “Speaking of missing…” He slipped his hand beneath Jerome’s lapel, rubbing Jerome’s nipple until his eyelids fluttered. “Wish you’d do that thing with the stickers.”

Oswald wondered how much more chaos they’d cause together than apart.


	2. Fingerbanging and Pride Bingo

Ivy watched Harley lean forward over the edge of the roof, grabbing the back of her crop-top just in case. She wasn’t about to let her dauntless girlfriend go _splat_ on the Clermont balcony.

“They behave like a coupla boring old queens,” Harley said, indicating Oswald and Edward.

“Yup,” Ivy agreed, tugging Harley’s shirt until she stood up straight. “That’s ’cause they are.”

Selina and Bridgit returned from where they’d been peering down over the roof’s other corner.

“They aren’t even thirty yet,” Selina yawned, dropping so she could sit with her legs dangling over the edge. “It’s sad. This isn’t as fun as it was a couple years ago, though.”

“Especially not since Bruce’s prissy doppelgänger decided to house-break Jerome,” Bridgit said.

“Hey, it was me an’ J who put in most of the hard work,” Harley scoffed. “We got the naughty twin presentable. Five oughta be thankin’ us for all those months of hard work.”

“Damn right,” Ivy said, keeping hold of Harley’s hand until they were both settled on the edge, too. “I mean, look at ’em. They’re down there eating caviar and— _hey_. Where’d they go?”

“Let’s hope they hijack Bruce’s float,” Selina said. “I wanna see the look on Jeremiah’s face.”

“Nah,” Bridgit said, sounding disappointed. “Five’s too much of a lady to let that happen.”

“Mmm, dunno,” Harley remarked, clasping Ivy’s hand in her lap. “Five’s got the devil in him.”

Bridgit clapped a hand over Selina’s mouth before she could give voice to the obvious bad joke.

Ivy watched Edward try to take Oswald’s glass away from him, which resulted in some indistinct, but spirited bickering. Wayne Enterprises’ float was now too far away for them to continue MST3K-ing Bruce and Jeremiah.

“We should get outta here,” Ivy sighed. “It’s getting hot, and Pengy’s making me want wine.”

“Jeri might give us some if we pout real pretty,” Harley said. “She’s got that rosé you like.”

Ivy let Harley haul her to her feet. Selina and Bridgit weren’t ready to go yet, so Ivy and Harley left them behind. They went back through the door they’d busted to get onto the roof, racing down the stairwell at a dizzying run.

Once they reached ground level, both of them were a laughing, panting wreck. They cut down the alley, grateful for the temporary shade.

Halfway to the Narrows, Harley pinned Ivy to a brick wall, slid a hand down the glittering green suit trousers Ivy had borrowed from Edward yet _again_ , and kissed her speechless. At least they could cross fingerbanging off their Pride bingo card.

They reached Celestial Garden at noon. Ivy followed Harley through the gaggle of outlandishly-dressed smokers out front, waving when a handful cheered. There were advantages to the alliance they had forged between Penguin’s retinue and Jerome’s following.

The club’s interior was as ill-lit as it usual. Jeri was behind the bar, chatting up customers, mixing the occasional cocktail herself. She waved at Harley, holding up one finger to indicate she’d be with them in a second—and then pointed to the end of the counter.

Five was perched on a stool, gulping a brightly-colored drink. His hair, which had been elaborately pinned up while he was on the Clermont balcony, hung in a loose braid with black pearls intertwined. His cheeks had a pinkish cast, and his eyes were glazed.

Behind him, Jerome stood with one arm resting on the bar and the other wrapped around Five’s waist. His jacket was missing. He took a sip of the drink when Five offered it, and then loosened his tie.

“Aw,” Harley said, swaggering up alongside Five. “Here I thought you were boozin’ it up.”

“Heh, you know me,” Jerome deadpanned. “Regular teetotaler. This one here’s dehydrated.”

Ivy tilted her head until Five’s averted gaze met hers. “You feelin’ okay? I’ve got stuff for—”

“Getting there,” Five interrupted, the sound of his voice simultaneously understated and startling.

“Princess isn’t used to that much sun,” Jerome explained, checking the level of Five’s mocktail.

“Sunscreen, dipshit,” Harley told Jerome. “You can’t tell me there’s none at your fancy digs.”

“My fault,” Five said peevishly, pushing the drink on Jerome again. “I rushed us out the door.”

“Slander and lies,” Jerome mumbled around the straw, and then kissed Five’s flushed cheek.

Jeri walked over and whispered to Ivy, “Wanna take ’em off my hands? They don’t tip.”

“Give us free wine,” Ivy said, holding out her hand, “and you’ve got yourself a deal.”


	3. Grand Theft Umbrella

Bruce could see the end of the route just around the next bend. He pointed it out to Jeremiah, whose relief was suddenly palpable.

“No offense,” Jeremiah said, peeling his sweat-slick hand out of Bruce’s, “but if it’s this sweltering next year, count me out.”

“It isn’t always,” Bruce replied, wiping his palm on his jeans. “This is the hottest it’s been since...” He flinched at the memory. “Since the last year I did this with my parents.”

Jeremiah looked stricken. “Forget I said that. I’m just...not used to the sun.”

“I’d never force you,” Bruce said, gratefully leaning toward him as the float rounded the bend and slowed to a stop. “It’s your choice.”

“Then I’ll choose to be here with you, rain or shine,” said Jeremiah, and kissed him.

Alfred cleared his throat directly below them, startling the two of them apart.

“Your adoring public, Master Bruce,” he said dryly, watching as Bruce stepped off the daïs and reached back up to help Jeremiah down. “Best see to the detectives first, yeah?”

“Undoubtedly,” Jeremiah muttered, using Bruce to steady himself. “Don’t look now, but Gordon and his sidekick are under siege.”

Bruce turned in time to see Jerome prop his forearm against Jim Gordon’s shoulder as he spoke animatedly to him. Meanwhile, Harvey was awkwardly attempting to engage Five, who was doing his level best to hide beneath his black parasol, in conversation.

“Is it just me,” Jeremiah said between clenched teeth, “or did they steal Oswald’s umbrella after we spotted them up on that balcony?”

Bruce blinked at the portion of the handle protruding from Five’s double-handed grasp. It was tooled silver, suspiciously beaked.

“You’d better get down there,” said Lucius, “before Harv takes that concealed stiletto dagger in the eye.”

Unwilling to wait for the portable staircase to be wheeled up, Bruce leapt off the float. He dashed over to where Jim was doing his level best not to punch Jerome in the teeth, and Jeremiah wasn’t far behind him.

“Anyway, Jimbo,” Jerome said, rolling his eyes at Bruce, “thanks for not shuttin’ her down after the raid last week.” He patted Jim’s chest and stepped away from him. “That club’s all she’s got.”

“Whatever,” Jim said, shifting his gaze to Bruce. “Would you mind escorting these two home before I decide to write them up for stolen property?”

“Excuse me,” Five said to Harvey, closing the umbrella. He shoved it against Harvey’s chest, glared at Jeremiah, and stalked over to Jerome.

“Stolen property?” Jerome echoed, wrapping his arms around Five. “Mr. Oswald must’ve left it in the hotel lobby, ‘cause we found it on our way out. We were gonna bring it down to the station after the parade, scout’s honor.” He rocked Five as Five’s head fell against his shoulder, kissing Five’s forehead. “Would you rather my baby got a sunburn?”

“Captain,” Jeremiah said hastily, getting between Jerome and Jim before Bruce could even intervene. “Thanks for coming—ah, _turning_ —out today!”

“Hey, we’re out already,” Harvey said smugly, turning to follow Jim, who was already walking away. “Why so shocked, Poindexter? D’you mean to tell me you didn’t know?”

“I did!” Five called after them, lifting his head from Jerome’s shoulder. “You stayed at Jim’s last night and didn’t have time to shave!”

“Uh, princess?” Jerome cajoled taking Five’s face in both hands. “He never has the time.”

“They’re wearing the same cologne,” Five said stubbornly. “Neither one has slept much.”

“Yeah, and Harv also confirmed your suspicions without shame,” Jerome said. “Let it go.”

“No cops at Pride,” Five shot back. “I don’t trust either one of them. They could’ve hurt Jeri.”

“I know, sweet pea,” Jerome replied, adjusting the pearls in Five’s hair. “We’ll kill ’em if they do.”

Bruce took Jeremiah’s arm, beckoning Jerome and Five. “We’ll take you to Midtown.”

“Why?” Five protested, apparently still feeling belligerent. “We got here by ourselves.”

“Because you’re gonna burn up if we walk, precious,” Jerome said, urging him along with an arm around his waist. “Don’t look a gift luxury sports car ride in the mouth.”

“You could’ve just said horse,” Five said with a sullenness that didn’t sound genuine, “seeing as it’s a Mustang.”

Bruce quickened his steps as Jerome started to cackle, dragging Jeremiah along at a faster pace.

“You have no right to that contact embarrassment,” Jeremiah said wearily. “He’s _my_ brother.”

“ _Your_ brother’s not the one who told the terrible joke for once,” Bruce sighed, smiling anyway.


	4. That Thing With Your Teeth

Five, in his impatience to get Jerome upstairs, dismissed Bruce and Jeremiah with a curtness he hadn’t used on them since that time he and Jerome were crashing in Jeri’s spare room. Jerome spent the elevator ride trying to guess why the rush.

“You know why,” Five said, scraping his thumbnails against Jerome’s nipples, enjoying the feel of them through Jerome’s shirt as the elevator slowed to a halt. “I know you have the stickers, but you’d better still have the rest of the outfit.”

“You got it, princess,” Jerome wheezed, stumbling as Five hauled him into the hall. “Maybe put on that new, uh, thing you ordered last week.”

Five rolled his eyes, smiling his burnt cheeks off. “Why d’you think I got it to begin with?”

Once they were safe inside the penthouse, Five rushed to the bedroom, collected what he needed, and told Jerome he’d change in the bathroom up the hall. He also warned Jerome he’d be back in fifteen minutes, by which point Jerome had better be ready— _or else_.

Five had perhaps been overly ambitious on timing, as it took closer to twenty minutes to wash up and get the elaborate black lace brassiere and underwear secured to the matching double garter belt. He regretted the black lace garters had no stockings attached.

“Hair up or down?” Five shouted, unhurriedly starting back down the hall toward the bedroom.

“Up, at least to start!” Jerome called back, distracted. “But, uh—you go ahead and do you!”

Five set one hand on the doorknob, using the other to make sure his pearls weren’t loose.

“If I come in,” he asked imperiously, “are we set to go, or am I gonna have to punish you?”

“All set, but, uh…you know I wouldn’t object,” Jerome said after a few moments’ silence.

“We’ll see,” Five said, turning the doorknob, striding into the bedroom without further ado.

Jerome looked every bit as ridiculous in the shirtless ringmaster get-up, smiley-stickered nipples included, as he had at Pride two years ago. Still, that didn’t even come close to rivaling Jerome’s expression when Five stepped close and took hold of his suspenders. 

“That’s…” Jerome struggled for words, throat catching when Five kissed the scar on his neck.

“Did I happen to tell you what I thought about the first time I saw you like this?” Five asked.

“Nope,” Jerome managed, shivering as Five bent to peel away the yellow stickers with his teeth.

Five spat one after the other on the floor, and then unclipped Jerome’s suspenders so he could run both hands from Jerome’s hipbones up to his collarbones uninterrupted. He pressed his hips flush with Jerome’s, which resulted in Jerome finally taking hold of his waist.

“I thought about getting to know you,” said Five, too earnestly, “so this would be possible.”

“Sure you didn’t think about that thing you just did with your teeth?” Jerome asked hoarsely.

“Maybe after I thought about getting to know you,” said Five, palming at his ass. “This okay?”

“More than,” Jerome gasped, pushing against the twist of Five’s hips. “Better hurry, precious.”

Five kissed him hungrily, backing him toward the bed. He was glad neither one of them had bothered with footwear.

Jerome fell back willingly. He panted and shuddered when Five pinned him, the front of his trousers slightly damp.

“Hang on,” Five said, working a hand between them. He fumbled Jerome’s trousers open.

Jerome shoved at the complicated straps of Five’s lingerie, groaning in frustration. “Babe—”

“Yeah, hang _on_ ,” Five repeated, almost tearing his lace panties in an attempt to get them out of the way. At least now he could jerk them both off.

“Love you so much,” Jerome whined, his hold on Five’s hips threatening to leave livid bruises.

“Sap,” Five accused, breath knocked from his lungs when Jerome flipped him onto his back.

“Guilty,” Jerome laughed shakily. He ground down against Five at Five’s desperate urging. 

Five was coming before he could even feel offended at having beat Jerome to the finish. He felt vindicated when, a few seconds later, Jerome cursed and clutched at him even harder. They’d be too wrung-out for a second round.

“That’ll bruise,” Five sighed after they’d lain still for a while, lazily kissing Jerome’s neck.

“Gonna look real pretty,” Jerome agreed. His fingers caught on the pearls in Five’s hair, tensing when the string snapped. “Oops.”

Five grinned up at him, setting his hands on Jerome’s cheeks. “Whoever finds the most wins?”


End file.
